Treasure You, Treasure Me
by LanceSkoggle
Summary: Riley Poole wakes up to find himself in bed with unnameable Girl. Set after Book of Secrets, this story chronicles his journey after the Second Big Find, where he is confronted with his past when he meets a former college roomate. Slash RileyOC.
1. Of Crazy Girls and Mystery Men

**Treasure You, Treasure Me**

**By LanceSkoggle**

_Disclaimer/Note: This is set right at the end of the events in National Treasure: The Book of Secrets. Spoilers are possible. This will later become slash (Riley/OC) and has slight sexual material of different kinds. And I do not own National Treasure or Apple or Ferrari, nor do I have any affiliation with Disney or its many subsidiaries, if I did, I would be rich. And probably not writing. I hope you enjoy this. Read and Review._

_ UPDATE: I have fixed some errors & made some wording adjustments on this chapter before going onto the next one.  
_

Chapter One

Of Crazy Girls and Mystery Men

Riley sat up, taking in his surroundings. He scanned the room, trying to figure out exactly where he was. He noticed a few things: the window with the funny sheer curtains draped elegantly around a white frame, the funny flower wallpaper that surrounded the rather feminine room, some picture frames, a lamp, a chest drawer. Sitting up, he felt the sheets tug against him as if there were something holding him back. He looked to his left, and there was that girl he had met the other night. It was the one he signed her book. And she was naked.

Oh God.

Riley pulled the sheets off of him and rushed to the bathroom, feeling sick and queasy in his stomach. He felt the breeze tug at his own bare skin, and then he remembered that the location of the bathroom was unknown to him. He fumbled around, trying to look, and then a god-awful headache hit him like a freight train. He was sweating, and he had no clue where he was, what he had done the night before, or what the hell had happened. Wrapped up in his confusion, he forgot that he was feeling rather queasy, and proceeded to vomit all over the soft, white carpet. Coughing and choking, he felt as if his entire organs were spewing out of him like it was the modern electronic consumer and he was the Microsoft corporation. It was disgusting.

He then heard a groan. "Are you okay?"

"No, just vomiting my brains out over here," coughed Riley. "All over your lovely white carpet."

"Oh, it's not mine, it's my parents," she stated, sitting up and looking at Riley with a very strange smile.

Riley stopped for a beat. "Your—parents?" Oh God, this is the worst thing that could ever happen, Riley thought.

"Yeah, this is their room," she said casually. As if were no big deal. Riley could not even imagine the ramifications of what was going on at this point.

"Their room… what are we… where are we… what the hell happened last night?"

She proceeded to appear offended. "Um. We had sex. And you were drunk as fuck, and well, I can't say I was sober," she offered.

"God, listen I'm sorry, I," he attempted to explain.

"No, no apology necessary. I liked it. And as far as I can remember, you liked it too."

This was so weird. So. So weird. And so utterly disappointing. In fact, every sexual encounter Riley had seemed to be disappointing. He was either, like in this case, too plastered to remember, or it so awful that he did not even make it all the way through. Either way, he always seemed to feel as if he was a bit of a let down.

"Well, that's good, I'm, uh," Riley awkwardly stated, "so, the vomit?"

"Don't worry about it," she assured him, getting up off the bed, "the maid will get it later."

The maid will get it later. How reassuring. Still, she seemed to be okay with it, so he did as was instructed, and ceased to stress. Then he realized once again he was naked.

"So where are my clothes?" he asked, laughing a little, but mainly feeling awkward.

She was proceeding to slip a robe on herself, and then Riley remembered that her name was all of a sudden unknown to him.

"And what's your name?"

At this she stopped dead cold in her tracks. She paused for a moment and then began to shriek. "You don't remember my name? You screamed it like twenty times last night!"

Oh God. He had pissed her off. This was defiantly on the side things that were not good. "I'm sorry! I thought, I mean, I really don't remember anything right now."

And then there was a shirt and boxers flown in his face.

"Get out."

Did he just hear her right? Did she really just say get out?

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Get out. Get your things and leave."

She began shrieking again, and left the room. "Oh, and my name is Girl You Will Never Fuck Again, just for your information!" she yelled from outside.

Damn. What a freak. And what was sad was, Riley could not remember if she was just simply a freak, or if she happened to be a freak under the sheets as well. He slipped his shirt and boxers on, found the rest of his clothing, and headed out the door.

Later, when he had stepped outside and located a Ferrari outside (tax free, by the way) with a note from the President himself, he jumped for joy and accidentally reversed, slamming into the back of someone's car. Damn it.

He looked around, and saw that no one had particularly noticed, so he contemplated driving off for a moment. He finally realized that his car _still _was not an automatic, and he corrected his gear, and drove off.

While he was driving he was contemplating what had just happened, and what that girl's deal was. He had no clue, for sure, but was certain that someone did. And he also was contemplating what her name really was. She was cute, no doubt, but she also was probably crazy. But there was obviously no use in staying, because if he had stayed he might very well just die. Or something.

So what was he going to do?

He thought of everything he could possibly do right now. Because hey, he was now rich again, and had a book that was selling out the wazoo, so really, he could go do anything. He could go visit Ben, not that he wanted to see his face right now. He again, really got the girl. Again.

He could go wander the streets of town, attracting a large number of females who saw his picture in the book, or in the news and decided that he was of interest. But that thought was fleeting as he realized he wanted little to no attention. So he decided he would go somewhere quiet for a bit. Not his house though, that was still being worked on. He decided to go to the park.

His own personal spot. He enjoyed this part of the park, it was somehow the most relaxing place on the planet, so peaceful, but so musing at the same time. He sat on a bench, his favorite bench, and looked out at his car, which was damaged just a bit in the back (it was tax free, so who cares?), and he took out his laptop, and began idly looking through his computer. He looked at the wonder that was the Mac Book, and just was comforted by the fact it was there with him. He found his computer charming, and yet, irresistibly distracting. Like to what had just happened.

Oh God, what had he done?

On the one hand, he could have set someone over the edge, like that girl, but on the other hand, he could have—he was suddenly distracted from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps. And the sound of words.

"I love you too," he heard a familiar voice admit, which really pissed him off considering what had just happened, albeit had nothing to do with love. He looked up, and it was a man on his cell phone. A man he knew.

It was Jon. Oh shit.


	2. Hovering Past

**Treasure You, Treasure Me**

**By LanceSkoggle**

_Disclaimer: I do not own National Treasure or Apple or Ferrari, nor do I have any affiliation with Disney or its many subsidiaries, if I did, I would be rich. Note: Thank you to all those who read/reviewed/put on alerts/ect. Sorry for the wait.  
_

**Chapter Two**

**Hovering Past**

Oh dear Jesus. This was defiantly not good. Defiantly not good. His past was officially standing right in front of him, in the form of a tall and chiseled man. A past he would rather not think about right now.

"I'll call you right back," his past said, "I'm getting another call. I love you too."

Ironic, the choice of words that his past was making, he found. True, but ironic. Mired in lies and love and things of the sort. His past now hang over him like a dark, spontaneous shadow, ready to rip out his heart with a single word. The word he knew were coming, and wanted to come, but did not want to come at the same time. He braced himself.

"Riley," the man said.

His name. The word was a definite stab in the heart, coming from where it was. He almost instantly found himself fighting tears back, or holding them in. The mere utterance of Riley's own name coming from that voice was something he had never wanted to hear again. But he clearly did anyway. Riley took a few moments to catch his breath.

"Hey," Riley said, swallowing, "Jon."

Then there was the part where he actually said the other name. Jon. He had not spoken that name in four years, not since the incident that he really did not want to think about at this point.

"You look good."

What was that supposed to mean? The way he said it suggested that he was still-- no, he could not be. He was married right? Riley just looked up at him, and did not say a word. He of course looked good too, but he could not bring himself around to admit it. He still had that same boyish charm about him, with young and playful blue eyes and long brown hair (the length being in his bangs), some stubble and-- oh God. Riley was thinking about sex again. And during all of this thinking, he realized that nothing had been said for a few moments.

"Um, how are you?" asked his past, who was still hovering over him like a dark and menacing omen.

Riley found it hard to find the words to answer that question. Up until now, everything had been going great. He found a new treasure (actually two treasures since he last saw this guy) and was feeling really amazing about life. He had a new Ferrari (though slightly wrecked) and he had just had a sexual encounter with someone (albeit she was crazy). So, in essence, he was great until this moment.

"I'm doing great," he lied directly to the shadow, "how are you? Last I heard you were getting married."

Married. Damn it, Riley thought. Every word he thought and uttered were all becoming knives directly in his heart.

"I am," answered the very cute man, who then gestured to the bench "you mind?"

"No, go ahead," Riley said, flustered, "uh, sit down."

Why did he just let him sit down? This certainly was not good for his health to simply just talk to his past lassie-faire. He might lose his hair right here. Not that that was the worst thing that could happen. Jon really had enough hair for them both (mostly in the front).

"Yeah, we have been married for about two years now," Jon explained. "And, and we're great, I guess."

There was a hint of lying in that voice. Jon defiantly was not having all that great of a marriage, Riley guessed, but he did not pursue it.

"But enough about me," Jon went on, "I've seen someone in the news lately, huh? Some Mr. Riley Poole," he said that last bit with some sense of mocking pride.

Damn you Jon, Riley thought. He knew how to tear down his walls, how to make him blush, and most sadly, how to make him feel like he was the most interesting person in the world.

"Find yourself two treasures?" Jon went on, "I'm impressed. I never thought you'd be the type to get all famous and sell a book."

"Well turns out, that's how it's ended up anyway," Riley said, just trying to go with the conversation and become too overly analytical about it. Not that he would ever do that.

"Well cheers to that. You must have girls swarming around you like gnats."

Riley laughed. "Not so much gnats as crazy sexual fiends trying to get their hands on my money.

"And your dick," Jon quipped.

Riley's mind stopped dead in his thoughts as mental images from his past suddenly emerged in his mind.

"Sorry," apologized the blue-eyed puppy dog of a past that was now looking sad and remorseful in front of him. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's fine," Riley lied through his teeth. "Don't worry about it."

"No, really, I didn't mean to make you think of that," Jon continued.

"Don't apologize. It's fine. I shouldn't of mentioned… it… anyway."

Jon smirked. An irresistible smirk that Riley had too often missed, but in reality it only left him sad.

"Yeah, well," Jon awkwardly mused, "so you seeing anyone?"

Riley looked at Jon and knew where this was going.

"Not presently," he answered.

"What happened to that one fat chick?" Jon asked, "What was her name? Kelly?"

"Cindy," Riley corrected. "Her name was Cindy."

"Right," Jon apathetically cut in, "what happened to her then?"

Riley looked at Jon for a few moments and then looked away. He thought about how he could word what had happened, if there was some way that he could specify the reasons for their breaking up without offending Jon here. A way he could say it without offending his hovering past.

Not having any success, he worded it as plainly as he could.

"You happened."


End file.
